


Thrown

by Fox (Spacefoxen)



Series: MCU Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Shooting Range, Sort Of, Sparring, Weapons, i think scott might be a bigger disaster than clint tbh, idk my prompt was weapons, scott's a bit moody don't mind him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacefoxen/pseuds/Fox
Summary: Clint just wants to make sure Scott is safe. Scott has a different idea of what 'safe' looks like.





	Thrown

**Author's Note:**

> Second bingo fill! And because I'm a dipshit, it doesn't even fall in a bingo line with my last one. Oh well. 
> 
> Prompt was 'weapons'.
> 
> Have some ClintScott feels. I'm actually working on like....6 full length fics with these idiots. I love them so much. 
> 
> As a heads up, while this is an MCU fill and techincally takes place on the MCU compound, I do tend to write both Clint and Scott as a combination of their MCU, AA, and comic personalities/backgrounds. So. Feel free to read this as being in any 'verse you want? 
> 
> Additionally, though she doesn't appear in this, know that when I write MCU Clint, Laura is almost always his sister, not his wife, and the kids are his niece and nephews. Because it just makes so much more sense that way narratively speaking.

“Come on, Scott. If you’re gonna be working with us more often, whether as an Avenger or not, you need to be able to protect yourself! You can’t rely entirely on your particles and suit all the time -- what if they malfunction or something?”

Scott rubs the side of his face. He and Clint were standing at one of the outdoor ranges on the Avengers’ Compound. He had come over for some training and to spend time with Clint, but all that had happened so far was them getting in an argument about weapons and Scott needing to know how to use them. Which, Scott wanted nothing to do with.

“Clint, I’ve told you, I don’t want to use a gun. I improvise. That’s what I do. Weapons just aren’t my thing.”

Clint huffs out a breath as he quickly reassembles a handgun he had been cleaning. “I just want to make sure you know how to use one just in case shit goes down. You don’t have to use one all the time.”

Scott knows Clint is just looking after him, that he’s worried and just wants Scott to be safe. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t currently screaming internally. He really doesn’t like guns, wants nothing to do with them. If showing Clint he knows how to shoot one will get him off his back about them, so be it.

Scott holds his hand out, palm up, and flicks his fingers at Clint. “Fine. Give it here.”

Clint rolls his eyes, “I’m not going to just  _ hand you a gun. _ We need to go over basic safety and handling first, and then---”

Scott cuts him off by grabbing the gun from out of Clint’s hands. Normally, Scott would humor Clint, they’d go over whatever Clint felt was necessary, and they’d inevitably end up making out before the lesson was actually finished. But guns make Scott antsy. So antsy, in fact, he can’t even chuckle at the bug pun. 

Before Clint has a chance to say anything or take the gun back, Scott steps around him, gritting his teeth while shoving on his noise cancelling headphones, and faces the target down the shooting range; he trusts that Clint will do what he needs to to protect his own ears. He checks the magazine, clicks it back into place, then turns off the safety. He then places his feet at shoulder width apart, holds the gun up with both hands, aims, and fires. He pulls the trigger five times and while it may not be in the rapid succession fire he knows Clint and Natasha and almost everyone else on the base is capable of, he also knows it’s nothing to laugh at, either.

Calmly, Scott replaces the safety on the gun, sets it down on the table, and takes his headphones off before turning to face Clint. Clint is staring at him, an odd look on his face and Scott sighs. He really doesn’t want to explain anything.

“Just pull up the stats, Clint.”

Clint keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye while he pulls up the target stats. Because Tony had been the one to design the Compound, the targets were of his design, too, and recorded any hits made to them in a digital interface that was easy to pull up on a tablet.

Scott puts his hands in his pockets and stares at his feet while he kicks at the grass.

When the data pulls up and Clint doesn’t say anything, Scott looks up at him. He’s assessing the information on the tablet, but must feel Scott’s gaze because he turns his eyes upward to look at Scott.

“You’re...a pretty decent shot.” Scott walks over to stand next to Clint so he can look down at the tablet. He didn’t make any bullseyes, but he did hit within the two center circles. Not bad, considering it had been a while since he had last held a gun.

Scott scratches his forehead. “I know how to shoot, I just don’t like it.” Which was most of the truth.

He had picked up shooting lessons as a way to give himself a last line of defense when on a job that involved actually breaking in -- and he had become a damn good shot. He didn't  _ like _ hurting people if he didn't have to, but he wasn't against it either if it was a case of him or them. Knowing he could shoot someone  _ if he needed to, _ helped him stay focused on the job. 

When Cassie was born, however, he remembered hearing horrible news stories about families that had kids and guns in the same house. He might have once been good at shooting, but that didn't mean he had ever grown to like it. Which made giving it up that much easier. The day he swore he'd stop thieving, he also swore off guns entirely. Obviously he hadn't kept the first promise for long, but it made him more determined to keep the second one. 

Scott doesn't tell Clint any of this, however. He doesn't think he has to justify his reasons for not wanting to shoot a gun. 

He glances up at Clint, who is still puzzling over the tablet. He might not have to explain why he doesn’t want to shoot, but he can certainly show Clint that he doesn’t  _ need  _ to use guns at all.

“Besides,” he says, shifting to stand in front of Clint. He grabs the hand that’s holding the tablet and draws Clint’s arm out to the side while moving in with his other arm around Clint’s chest, as though to give him a hug. Clint looks up and Scott steps forward so their chests are brushing and their faces are side by side. The position can probably be misinterpreted as flirty by Clint, which is just fine by Scott in that moment. He turns to speak in Clint’s ear. “I can protect myself just fine in hand to hand.” 

With that, he slides his right leg forward until his hip hit’s Clint’s before pushing his foot forward and out, wrapping his ankle around the back of Clint’s left. While doing this, he pulls Clint forward until he’s off balance and leaning forward and against Scott’s hip. Using Clint’s own forward momentum and the arm he still has wrapped around Clint’s chest, Scott pulls, twists, and flips Clint down onto the grass with a hard thump.

“Hot damn,” Clint wheezes, trying to get his breath back. He stays prone on the ground, staring up at Scott while he straightens back up with a smirk. “Fuck. Why haven’t we been sparring?”

Scott rolls his eyes and smiles, reaching a hand out to Clint to help him up to his feet. “Because we probably wouldn’t get any actual sparring done.”

Clint grins at him as he’s pulled to his feet. He stays close, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. “Fair enough,” he says, before leaning in to kiss Scott thoroughly.

Which, Scott thinks, is totally fine by him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on Tumblr at @spacefoxen and scream with me about these two disasters!


End file.
